


Valhalla, I Am Coming

by Unreal_Kitty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Mid-Canon, Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 13:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unreal_Kitty/pseuds/Unreal_Kitty
Summary: Gods may die, but fathers live on in their sons. Thor wasn't the only Odinson to be paid a visit in his darkest hour.[Spoilers for Thor: Ragnarok]





	Valhalla, I Am Coming

**Author's Note:**

> Set mid-Ragnarok, during the escape from Sakaar.
> 
> Additional Note:
> 
> Although initially published as a stand-alone story, this work is now the second installment in a 3-part series, followed by A Crown That Seldom Kings Enjoy. All works can be read independently.

"You'll always be the God of Mischief, brother. But you could be so much more."

Loki tried to shout a parting quip at his brother, but the continuous, agonizing jolt of the implant stopped him.

He struggled against the pain, and found he couldn't even manage to flip over. The control lay a few feet away, but Thor might as well have tossed it into the Devil's Anus.

 _Calm yourself, Loki_ , he thought. _Stop trying to fight your way out of this with brute strength. You aren't Thor._ With prodigious control, he forced his raging muscles to relax. _That's better. Now, are you a wizard or not?_

He drew a deep breath — or at least as deep a breath as he could manage against the electricity clawing at his lungs. He slowly shut his eyes and reached into himself. Tendrils of thought searched for the wisps of energy that connected his body to the universe. His power. But each time he'd almost make contact, a wave of electricity would chase away the swirling magic.

Loki lay limp on the floor, powerless. His eyes flew open.

 _I have no magic. I have no strength,_ he thought. _No throne, no future, no father..._

His lips twisted, bearing his teeth in something between a grin and a grimace. Some God of Mischief.

He needed to think, to make a plan. But he struggled to concentrate over the tides of electricity flooding his brain. The Trickster God could not scheme.

 _How do you make a plan,_ Loki managed to force out through the haze. _Step one, know your resources._ He tried to envision his inventory. _I've got....I've got—_

 _Nothing,_ hissed a poisonous voice from somewhere in the back of his mind. _No wit, no trick up your sleeve, no clout with the Grandmaster. No respect from anyone. No one fears you._

Loki heaved his head to the side, as though to shake away the voice. It returned, relentless. _No one fears you, no one loves you and no one will come for you. Thor left you here. No one is coming to save you._

He choked out a short, strangled sob. No one was coming to save him. No one was left. He closed his eyes again. He'd been swallowed by an abyss before, he knew what was waiting once he let go.

"Loki," a voice rumbled, all around him. A sonic boom rang in his ears and reverberated through his convulsing body.

A field on an alien planet. A rocky shore overlooking a foreign sky.

Loki's vision wrenched back to the ceiling of the vast garage. The Sakaarian guards were sure to find him soon. Another resounding boom. A flash of green field, grey sky.

"Loki." The sound of his name slammed into his chest, like a drowned victim being dragged back to life.

Had Thor returned for him after all? No, he wouldn't have, not with the slavering Sakaarans at his heels, not with the might of Hela looming before him. Thor couldn't turn back when Asgard cried out for him. Not even for his little brother.

Electricity tore through Loki's veins. He was back in the garage. Footsteps pounded outside the room, getting closer.

"LOKI!" The walls should have shook with the force of the voice. Loki felt it surge through him, chasing away the pain. He stood in a field. The field. The field where his father died.

 _I must be dead_ he thought to himself. _The Grandmaster's goons have found me after all, and slain me where I lay._ He frowned. _I should've been harder to kill._ Loki surveyed the expanse. _This is death. This is just what I deserve, bound forever to this place where I never got the chance to—_

"Loki," repeated Odin, softly. The Allfather stood before him, still dressed in his strange Midgardian garb. No, not the Allfather, not this day, when everything was stripped away. Just Father.

"I am here," he answered, then hesitated. "Father." The word should have felt foreign— Loki had spent years now holding it prisoner in the back of his throat. But although he had to shake a few cobwebs from his tongue, it floated out readily enough. "At least I think I'm here, although I'm most definitely also stuck in the forsworn bowels of my enemy's lair. I'm here in spirit, at any rate."

"Father," said Odin, thoughtfully. "I see you've finally embraced the truth." He arched a wry brow, as thought to add, "took you long enough."

Loki laughed, a harsh, wild sound. "The truth? I don't know about that. To who's truth are you referring?" He swallowed. "Perhaps I prefer to think of it as accepting the lie again. I am the God of Lies, after all."

"Are you, now?"

Loki furrowed his brow, bemused. "Well, yes."

"I've heard many call you by that title, before. Particularly behind your back." Odin drew closer to Loki. He didn't walk closer, the distance between the two men seemed to have just vanished. "Yet I've never heard you use that particular moniker."

Loki shrugged. "It felt time for a change."

"A change, yes." A sly smile crept on Odin's face, reminding Loki uncomfortably of himself. "I quite agree. As your brother put it, life is about change. And yet, you've dug in your heels and resisted time's current. God of Lies." He shook his head. "What foolishness. A grievously inaccurate title, my son."

"Now wait just a minute," Loki began.

"No," boomed Odin sternly. A millennium of youthful obedience snapped Loki's mouth shut. "I haven't much time so for once in your life, be silent."

Loki's eyes narrowed, twin wolfish gleams.

"You are so many things, Loki. You have countless talents at your disposal and as many facets as a precious gem. You wear a multitude of forms and faces. Why bind yourself to just one?"

"I am but what others have made me. What _you_ have made me."

Odin smiled sadly. "I have made you nothing but my son."

"You turned me into an Aesir! When you found me in Jotunheim!" He clawed at his pale face. "You gave me this form!"

"I did not."

Loki paused. "I... I don't.."

"You have always been a gifted shapeshifter, Loki. Even as an infant. You chose this, not I."

Loki didn't know what to make of this information. He licked his lips and shifted his weight.

"You possess such power at your fingertips — your magic will surpass mine, once you've earned the experience to wield it."

"Father," Loki started, startled by the praise.

"A good story is a powerful thing. With it, you may shape the universe to your will." Odin closed the remaining distance, the world shrinking even as it stretched to eternity. He cupped his son's sharp face with a broad, weathered hand. Loki stiffened but didn't move away. "You have grave choices ahead of you, Loki. Who is the man that will make them?" Loki careened backwards but Odin pressed forward, crowding into his space. "World-weaver, Face-changer, Song-spinner, who will you choose to be?"

Loki's eyes widened. He continued to stumbled backwards.

"Who will you choose to be?" Odin repeated, roaring. "Who are you, Loki? WHO ARE YOU?"

Loki tripped and fell backwards. His back met hard floor instead of lush grass. Odin's roar died away, like a fading storm. Then, the voice returned once more, like a rainbow. "Never doubt that I love you, my son."

"I know," Loki whispered.

  
The first thing Loki noticed was that he was no longer in excruciating pain. He felt for the implant. It had dislodged itself from his back. His eyes met two stone columns and climbed upwards.

"Hey, man. I'm Korg. We're gonna get outta here on that big spaceship. Wanna come?"

Loki took in the ragtag horde of contenders that milled behind Korg. Thor had lost his hammer. Hela was insurmountable. His brother was going to need all the help he could get. Loki's lips quirked. "Well, it seems that you _are_ in dire need of leadership."

"Thank you!" said the living mountain. Loki paused, eyeing the stone man. He searched for a note of sarcasm and found only unabashed sincerity. He sighed. _Not another one._

Loki stretched his neck, working out the kink in his shoulders. _Hela had never met a warrior she couldn't defeat. But…_ A vulpine grin spread like a rumor on his lips. _...perhaps she had yet to meet a fox._

The God of Mischief surveyed his little army of battered gladiators, their eyes like sparks in the night. He flicked his head towards the gangway of the enormous, commandeered ship, inviting them to follow.

 _This might be it for me,_ he thought. _Hela might end up wearing my hide like a stole._ Loki gave a wild laugh. "Valhalla," he said aloud. "I'm coming."

 


End file.
